The Bird and the Bee
by shooptastic
Summary: Dysfunctional relationships are a sure-fire way to end up lost in life. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and Lovina Vargas are the ends of both. Lovina's singing career depends on her witty, snappy personality. Although, that's changing with the new guitarist.
1. Chapter 1

**written by pilkopants and shooptastic on tumblr**

(edited for online reading)

please enjoy c:

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><p><strong>The Bird and the Bee<strong>

**Chapter One**

Bouncing lights and stage frights, that's what their band was doing.

Antonio, who had recently been accepted full-time into a band, that even had a tour bus with beds that stacked like coffins in the catacombs, was exhilarated to be on stage regularly. Just playing guitar for people, that's all he wanted.

Things could be rather problematic, though, the lead singer _never_ came out of her dressing room unless it was with the spiky, platinum white blond haired _'boyfriend'_, for things hadn't been confirmed, and they had started fighting _a lot_.

Other than that, he was resting on the couch in the green room, two hours until the first song, strumming on his guitar while the drummer and the bassist conversed. Antonio regretted to think he wasn't exactly welcomed yet.

Lovina had spent the last fifteen minutes slotting the back of her phone back into place and touching up her make-up, having thrown it across the room when her supposed boyfriend had dropped a flippant text about how he wouldn't make it to see her tonight.

As was the usual standard, the narcissistic, small-minded, arrogant—

She shook her head, used her pinkie finger to try to dab her eye make-up into a decent standard, and checked the time. She had to be out for a sound check shortly, getting her breath back and forcing herself to stand tall at the mirror, shoulders back, chest out.

All confidence, which was all it took.

Antonio had recalled hearing a loud crash to the wooden door and murmurs of a possible dent from other techies, but he never really concerned himself with it.

Sure, the lead singer had it all. Confidence and looks, a nice voice on her hands to sing— but _she_ was someone else's. Antonio didn't go out for people with boyfriends. It was all too much trouble.

He kept strumming, switching to a jazzy-Latin number, singing softly under his breath. He didn't want to make too much noise. He looked up from his strumming, now humming once the longhaired, made-up woman tromped her way out as if she owned the place.

Antonio smirked, turning back to his strings. She was such a silly woman.

She put her head into the green room through the open door, standing tall and letting her lips form into an unimpressed, but unexaggerated pout, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You've not been called yet?" She asked, almost haughtily, looking directly at Guitarist.

Guitarist didn't have a name yet. He was new, and was busy practicing something that she would not be singing. It was nice, but she reminded herself to stay in command. Antonio looked up again. Oh, she was still there. He stilled his strings with his hand giving her a friendly smile.

"Ladies first," He said to her, motioning to the stage entrance. "I was only being polite; I can tune my own guitar."

"I should hope so," She replied jokingly, turning for the stage and feeling any little smirk that had graced her lips drop immediately. She couldn't bring herself to feel confident or ready about anything at all, walking onto the echoing stage of the little venue, looking out to the empty tables and chairs in front of her. She was thinking of them being filled with people laughing and drinking and she felt like freezing, but her well-trained feet continued forward to the front of the stage to check her positioning.

Antonio looked in, seeing her jerk and panic for a split second, then steady herself. She couldn't be nervous; Antonio thought with a soft strum of his instrument. She was Lady Lovina. Vargas. She'd been across the world twice and gotten in only two scandals in her entire life.

He got up, feeling the wave of concern wash away just like the sand on a beach. Might as well give the nice techies something to do while she ripped her piss all over the stage on how a light didn't shine on her right eyeball just right.

Lovina stood still and held her hand up to her face as the light check went on, looking around the stage every so often to see the full effect. She raised a hand to stop the light technician flicking between colors and shook her head slightly.

"Use less green!" She shouted up, watching him switch back to the paler lights. Better. She gave him a seemingly relaxed thumbs-up and crossed to the piano.

It was as if she was the lights manager. It was scaring him a little.

"Is that all in tune to your liking?" Antonio asked the sound tech, a rush of pride filling his bones when he nodded and hooked him up to the large speakers on the stage-right side. He sat down in his spot on the stool, not even daring to pluck a string, and waited to talk to the 'lovely' woman.

She had a cute little rump to her he'd give her that.

Lovina stayed standing and played a short little burst, and nodded, pleased with the sound and nodding to a nearby tech, who agreed with her. Good.

She turned to Guitarist and went to call him over, realizing she had been told his name, but had been thinking of other things at the time. She just jerked her head at him and asked, "Come over here?"

As all other men who would have floated over to her and sniffed her neck to smell the scent of _Tan-In-A-Can_ or perhaps something from a mainstream actor's perfume line, he calmly walked over with an expecting look to his eyes. Hi, I'm Antonio; I'll be strumming for you this evening.

He slung the beloved blond guitar over his shoulder and into his arms. "Need something?"

Lovina nodded and held her hand out for him to shake. "Yes..." She used the other hand to gesture him into giving his name.

Oh, _how polite_, and it had only taken her three shows to formally introduce himself.

He took her hand and gave it a strong shake, giving a half-smile. "I'm Antonio," He said in forced matter. Tone it down, boy. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo." He let go, fixing the cord to the amplifier.

Well, that would have been her first guess after José or Diego, or something else vaguely Spanish sounding.

She took a second to nod, recovering from the firm grip of his handshake, and cleared her throat.

"Antonio, the instrumental before the last song, we were putting in a few extra phrases at the..." She trailed off and played a short riff on the piano for him. "For about four bars; is that okay?"

That was all. No, 'so where are you from?' or 'when did you start playing guitar?' He was tempted to ram through the precious four bars just to spite her.

"Sounds good," He nodded, watching her slender, shaky fingers tap on the keys. "I'll remember that."

"Good," She told him, going back to watching the piano as her fingers slowed. She felt him standing beside her, waiting, so she forced herself to look up and give a brief nod. "Thank you."

He nodded and went back to his hidden little stool, leaning against the cool brick wall of the venue to raise his finger and thumb to his eye.

He shut the other one and pinched her ego-filled head.

Lovina stood tall and quiet, playing and singing her piece for the sound check quickly, already wanting more than anything to go back to her dressing room and lament how fucking ridiculous her life was, nervous wreck performing almost every night with a boyfriend who had more time for a cold beer than he did for her.

She knew the rest of the band sounded good, and so barely listened as they played through the songs together, sitting down at her piano and taking the chance to just sing and play. She never performed the sound check; it was more therapeutic to take it calmly.

Oh, Antonio knew this one!

He sat up in his chair, waited for the chance to enter into the song, and turned the dial of the speaker down so it wouldn't over-power her. It was almost a reflex, now. Since his music teacher in middle school taught him how to play after-school every three days, he'd prompt him with a song and Antonio would play the rest. He strummed the chords, a little bit of the harmony, too.

She didn't seem to mind, although, she probably didn't hear.

It took a second for her to notice the other voice, straightening up in her seat and having to force her fingers to keep moving.

She turned to Antonio slowly and looked at him over her shoulder, continuing the song to allow him to continue too, but her expression grew less and less relaxed.

Antonio smiled at her, seeing her shoulders crawl up to something less natural and a bit spikier.

_"You don't know me,"_ _(1)_

He sang at her, inching forward in his stool. God, he had to calm down! She had a boyfriend that made her throw her phone across the dressing room, only to make a dent in the door! Imagine what she'd do with the microphone beside her, resting on a stand.

_"You don't know me at all."_

_"You could have just propped me up..."_

She went on, almost frowning when he sang the other part back at her. She turned back to the piano to bang on the keys slightly more loudly, her voice picking up too as she continued the verse with Antonio's fucking harmonies. They went on like that, until she grew too irritated to keep looking forward and standing to play and look over her shoulder at the same time.

_"... why the fuck would you want me back?"_ She almost spat, staring at him, daring him to go on. _"Maybe it's because..."_

He caught her snake eyes, almost imagining a forked tongue to whip out of her finely glossed lips.

_"You don't know me at all,"_ He half whispered, half hissed at her, only to find himself leaning back and strumming without a care in the world.

Aah, he'd probably get a pushpin in his bunk on the bus, maybe a shove or maybe just a drop in his salary.

Antonio certainly could hear those hard bashes on the keys as the piano answered her call with a scream of mercy under its chords.

Fine.

She wasn't going to let him get her distracted, pushing on to the bridge, reminding herself to straighten up and not appear as defensive as she felt.

_"So, what, I'm trying to say is, what,"_ She went on, fully expecting him to chip in, and silently seething at his cocky, laid-back approach to inviting himself to sing.

"What?" He straightened up, slowing his strums to small little plucks. She totally hated him; totally and completely hated him. In addition, if that meant he didn't get to eat out of the bus's fridge that was fine with him. There was nothing but white meats in there anyway. If you ever wanted to make it big as someone who only made albums when they felt like it, she needed to tone down the bashing of her keys.

"I'm trying to tell you— it's not going to come it like I want to say it..." Lovina played shortly and sharply, turning back to the piano, "...'cause I know you'll only change it..." She stood perfectly still and stared forward, a very slight frown on her face as she waited for the whisper from behind her.

And in the most mocking voice a man could give to imitate a girl, he spoke—

_"Say it~!"_ with a little bob of his head.

She wasn't even having fun.

_"You don't know me, you don't know me," _

He continued in his normal singing voice, watching her slam on the keyboard. She must have been one to finish a song before she screamed at someone for doing something wrong.

_"At all!" _

She had hit a sour note as soon as she'd heard him, correcting herself quickly and pressing on with determination, finishing the final chorus and pushing through the outro while he went on with 'oh's and 'ah's. When she finished definitely, she kept her hands on the piano and looked forward, forcing herself into to give him the satisfaction of flashing an irritated glare.

Antonio clapped his hands at her, whistling a little bit.

"Ay, _chica_, you may have a boyfriend, but every songbird needs to escape its cage," He told her, yelling out from the other side of the stage. "You're amazing. I wish I'll have the pleasure to sing with you again."

She had gone through an entire range of emotions in just a few seconds, bursting between bristling at his tone to feeling dirty spite flame at the mention of her 'boyfriend', and then she was intrigued at his choice of words and flattered, just to round everything of nicely.

Lovina took a few seconds to take a breath and look up to him, her tone nowhere near as vicious as she had hoped. "Just play the guitar."

Aw, what a chiller. This girl was like ice.

"Alright, alright, whatever you say, _mi princesa, eres divina_," He waved, set his guitar by the stool and went to fetch a bottle of water.

Well, now that his voice and his charming words were warmed up, he was ready to go on stage. Thanks, Ms. Vargas!

Lovina didn't answer and made sure she waited for the rest of the band to round up before going herself. She went off backstage to find Antonio near a cooler, taking a bottle of her own and sipping it, purposefully not meeting his eye.

If he wanted to talk, he could, she wasn't starting anything. She was just having a drink.

"I advise taking an extra one, just to refresh if your voice fails you in one of the songs." He mumbled, handing her another one, one that had formed ice in the top from its spot in the back. "Just in case," Antonio threw in a wink because she hadn't bitched at him before, why not now.

He snatched his own extra-just-in-case bottle, just in case he had to sing back up, which he severely doubted.

She nodded, giving him no thanks, and took the bottle from him. A long pause passed, where he drank his water and shrugged at her, with what seemed to be his default smile, and went to turn, so she spoke up. "What's your deal?" She asked, taking a few steps towards him and crossing her arms, flinching at the ice on her skin, and trying to cover it quickly.

"My deal?" He asked for only to clarify. "Uh… I have no deal. I'm just having fun; I'm enjoying my free career as a guitarist." Antonio screwed on the cap to his bottle. "Why do you ask?"

She scoffed and shook her head, her tone uppity. "So, you're not one of these flirty guys who turns out to be gay so you feel comfortable with them? But you're not really gay and you're just trying to get me to trust you?" She asked, as if she'd seen right through him. "Well, don't bother. Because I'm spoken for,"

Antonio bit his lip, not understanding a word. "Well, really, I don't know what you're getting at, but I'm not gay, and you have a lover, and I'm only trying to spend my years of youth I actually have to myself on having fun." He opened his arms as if to say 'taadaa', and strolled on past her once, the band was getting on and he needed to be checked again.

Lovina frowned and spun around to him, offended at being left standing on her own. "You can't just have fun all the time!" She called after him.

"Which is why I'm having fun now!" He called back, waving his bottle of water at her. "You should try it!"

_Smart-ass. _

She had a quick breather, having to collect herself again before she was too worked up, and stood at the side of the stage until she was needed again. She sipped her water and watched Antonio slowly chipping away at the other band members, too, enigmatic and open, although she wouldn't allow herself to be certain on how genuine he was just yet.

. 0 .

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><p>(Various songs will be used in this fiction, so a number will be displayed by the opening line for the reader's advantage.)<p>

(1) - _You Don't Know Me_ - Ben Folds ft. Regina Spektor

Thank you for reading, and there will be more to come!

Give us your thoughts, it'll be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**The Bird and the Bee**

**Chapter Two**

Antonio had been in three shows before this one. He had learned so little, even by keeping his head down and strumming. Lovina had been right about one thing; he just played the guitar. That's all he did, and that's all he would ever do.

The show was going great. Biggest one yet, but Lovina did seem a little deflated when she wasn't singing. What concerned him the most was that when he was tuning the guitar, there was dead time.

Lovina still had time to spare, but they had raced through all of their songs that the crowd was getting restless. No wonder, ending with a fast and loud song never works anymore. He tested his strings once more, biting his lip when she finished her song and the crowd remained, cheering and waiting for another.

Just play the guitar? Okay, he'd just play the guitar.

She stood with her breath in her throat, remembering that she was small and outnumbered for the first time in the last hour or so, dangerously close to losing her stride and freezing on the spot.

There was a chilling and empty silence, on the stage, and restless muttering below. Panicked, she put her fingers to the keys and could think of nothing to play.

There were no words as she felt at the gentle guitar coming from behind her. He was buying her time to pick something to play.

He walked onto the stage, anxious, but ready.

_"Tell me when will you be mine?"_ _(1)_ He sang, just to get her started.

She was Italian, he thought, but did he get that right? She should know this one.

_"Tell me 'quando, quando, quando,'?"_ Antonio stepped over to her piano, locking her eyes.

_"We can share a love divine... but please don't make me wait again," _

She looked back at him uncertainly, but pressed her fingers to the keys and started to play, softly, just to accompany him until she was surer, feeling the audience prepare for the growing song.

_"When will you say yes to me?"_ She sang, nodding over the piano to tell him to keep singing.

_"When will you say yes to me?" _

He sang back, easing her into the chords with a slow start.

_"Tell me Quando, Quando, Quando?" _

He could tell he wasn't going to get in much trouble for this one, just easing an old song into the Italian venue that seemed to sway and sing under their breaths.

Nice. Brownie point jackpot.

_"Dimmi, quando, quando, quando?"_

She echoed, sliding into a relaxed tempo and easing out of her anxious frown, almost letting herself smile when she heard the patrons breath a collected, contented sigh, and try to restraining themselves from singing, too.

He looked over her piano, seeing a small curve of her lips. Double nice. Antonio, you are too good with that ladi— oh—

_"You mean happiness to me,"_ He continued, a bit of a nervous-caught-in-the-act smile on his face. Woops.

Lovina's smile faltered as she replied, shooting him a sneaky glare to tell him to focus. Being on-stage, she got rid of that look quickly as they sang together,

_"Oh, my love, please tell me when..." _

They managed to keep it going well, and although it wasn't impressive, particularly, she could not fault his voice very much. The rest of the band joined in softly a little later through the next verse, the audience still nodding along at their tables and mouthing the words.

Antonio managed to keep the pace steady; something his teacher would have been extremely proud of since he had a habit of rushing through like it was 'The Flight of The Bumblebee', which he was proud to say that he could strum on the guitar.

_"And then darling tell me~ when."_ He began the ending, looking at her to make sure she was ready. _"Oh my darling, tell me when."_

Lovina caught his eye to tell him to prepare for the finish, slowing the piano and building her voice just slightly for the big finish, not to overdo it, just to round it all off. She nodded at him to invite him to take the harmony.

_"Oh, my darling, tell, me... when...?"_

_"Ooh,"_

He finished as his eyebrows moved with the last final strum as if to say, 'you can thank me later'. He dropped his guitar to his side, bowing and motioning to Lovina to have the audience clap and scream at her, but not taking the time to bow for himself. He walked off slowly, smiling as if he had just scored a goal.

Lovina glanced at him as he fell back into the background, smiling properly now, as she always did at the end of a performance, but now it was so much easier, taking her bow and soaking in every clap and cheer, so she could remember the feeling the next time she didn't want to go on stage.

After a few moments of beaming and bowing, she could take her exit, Antonio stood at the side of the stage. "Thank you," She breathed, practically deflating in relief, putting a hand to her chest in sincerity over the pleased muttering of the crowd. "Thank you, that was..."

Antonio's shoulder's risen sheepishly, as if to say 'I know, I know!' Lovina looked happier than she did on stage, at least. Moreover, it made Antonio wonder why she ever wanted to sing alone in the first place if she hated doing so.

"No problem, I'm glad help out a fallen song-bird any time." He leaned against the side of the stage, sitting on his stool until he had to help lift the instruments into the trucks, idly sipping his water.

She was happier, yes, but still above such things as packing the truck. She carried her microphone stand over, and a few wires, but she'd be damned if she shuffled over with an amplifier or a drum.

Retreating back to sit against a table and check her phone, she frowned at the missed calls and texts from her boyfriend, asking her if she was finished yet, asking her when she'd meet with him. She had the displeasure of having the phone ring in her hand, feeling the need to answer it.

He had just gotten his guitar all packed up for the bus when he saw the look on her face as she looked through her phone. "Uh oh," He drawled out. "Looks like tough times for Tonio." A fellow roadie laughed and elbowed him in the side, giving him more loads to carry. "If her lover met me I'd get a lariat around my neck," He hissed to the drummer, who had referred to himself as Scooter, who was walking beside him.

Lovina had flicked her phone open, cut off before she could even begin to speak with slurred demands as to why she had ignored his calls.

"You knew I was busy tonight!" She argued. He cut in again, asking when she'd be home. She shot up off the table in a fit of rage. "I'm not _going_ to be coming home, that's why you were supposed to be here, Gil!" She hissed, trying to keep the volume of her voice down and failing quite spectacularly.

Antonio bustled out of the backstage area to stack each case into the truck.

Shit, he knew he'd be dragged into the conversation if he stayed around longer, since Lovina was one to throw people under the bus.

No joke; apparently, according to the techies, last time she got furious at someone, she threw him under the tour bus. Once the call was out and Lovina was a shut-in again, he'd turn on the charms one last time for the evening.

Lovina had the phone clenched in her hand, pacing furiously. "I did tell you, I told you for days, and you went out and got fucking drunk— don't tell me you're not drunk!" She gave him a second to speak, a bad choice, because it gave her a chance to let her emotions catch her, feeling breathless and betrayed, her eyes stinging. "You don't, if you did, you'd be here... no, don't bother phoning me, and I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear from you, I don't want to think about you at all, you selfish son of a bitch!" She hung up and turned away from the people standing around, dabbing at her eyes again. They weren't over. They did this weekly, they were never over...

Antonio came back to grab the few remaining heavy loads, watching as Lovina crippled over to a fold out chair, her hands fluttering up to her face.

"_Ay_..." He moaned quietly, going out back again. "_Ay_, _Dios_. There are no good-willed men anymore, nope, nope. None at all, how he makes a woman cry..." He shook his head in disgust, watching, as the few remaining loads were carried in. "Unforgivable." He said, a little louder than he had hoped.

"Mind your own fucking business!" She snapped, wiping her face and standing up, taking a few strides to shout at him. She needed to yell at someone. "You don't know anything about us!"

He turned to her direction, his hands on his hips.

"I don't?" He inquired, looking down to see the phone clenched tighter than a boa in her hand. "Well, from your composure it's quite simple you obviously had a fight with him, and from overhearing from the back door, he abandoned you to a glass of cheap bear. You, of all people,"

He took the stool by its rung and carried it back to where he found it.

"I'm just saying you don't deserve it. It's unforgivable of him."

She watched him, crossing her arms and trying to be aloof. "We do this all the time," she told him, shrugging with a transparent smirk. "We'll be fine by tomorrow."

Antonio nodded, unconvinced but satisfied. "Nice, I love relationships that involve betrayal and lies." He muttered, shrugging on his coat. "See you on the bus, then."

She seethed as she went to pick up her bag and coat, pausing at the door to turn around and have the last word. "I don't need you to pity me. Just play the guitar."

He almost laughed. Last time she said that, he disobeyed her almighty orders and went ahead and saved her entire reputation. He could only imagine what would happen next. "Sounds great," He agreed, hopping on board the long bus and making a beeline straight for his catacomb bunk.

Lovina glared at his back and watched him disappear out the back door. She shook her head stubbornly and went into the little dressing room to throw her coat on and pick up her bag, stopping at the mirror on the way past and clearing away any makeup that wasn't quite in place after her... tiff. Just a tiff. She went to the bus with her head held high, sitting down on whatever cushioned ledge was closest; be it bed or chair.

Antonio pulled back his curtain, not even bothering to converse with the other bandies and techies.

Next stop, France. Oh how nice, he could pay a visit to a studying-abroad friend.

He yanked the curtain back, not minding if he was still in his coat and concert-clothes, since he had just been told to play the guitar and nothing else.

She unbuttoned her coat and looked to the curtain that separated the bus, considering just spending the night in the chair up front so she didn't have to talk to anyone. Oh, it wouldn't make any difference, she realized, sinking forlornly in her seat. She barely talked to anyone anyway.

Moreover, he very seriously doubted anyone would be knocking- or ripping back the red curtains on his bunk tonight. Everyone seemed to have gained a little bit of respect for him, but the others didn't talk to him close to at all. He got rather lonely in this job, from the five days they've been on the road. At least he had a good connection with abroad friends. The only problem was good reception and Wi-Fi.

At least he had snacks, like mixed nut containers full to the brim. The peanuts in there wouldn't do, so he'd have to find a way to safely deal with them…

Whether or not she wanted to talk, Lovina would have to get changed and slot herself into a bunk. She sighed and gathered up her things to go throw to the bathroom... the problem with sharing a tour bus with mainly males, was that she always had to wait for the bathroom to be free to get changed. With a sour expression on her face, she drew back the curtain and walked into Antonio, glaring at him and shuffling past without apology.

Antonio shook his head and sighed, deciding since no one on this bloody bus knew Spanish he could let whatever he had in him out.

_"Tardé una hora en conocerte y sólo un día en enamorarme. Pero me llevará toda una vida poder olvidarte."_ He spoke her way, climbing up into his bunk. "G'night, bird," Antonio called, drawing back the curtain.

She looked back to him and met his eye, softening only slightly when he smiled at her. "You still have your clothes on," she muttered, in a tone that might have been affectionate for his hopelessness if she hadn't been so fed up with everything, stepping into the tiny bathroom with her bag in hand to change.

"I don't _care_ anymore," He huffed, curling over and closing his eyes once he had heard the creek of the bathroom door and the soft sound of clothes hitting the floor.

Really, she didn't deserve such pain. How nice would her sound be if she eased all burdens off her shoulder? He wondered.

In addition, he had found a way to deal with the peanut problem; he tossed them up into the bunk above him. No one slept there, he was positive.

She changed quickly, hit with fatigue as soon as she realized how close bed actually was. Throwing on a pair of loose cotton trousers and a top, and wiping off her make up, she made her way back out, stopping for a second at Antonio's bed.

He didn't move. Damn, that guy slept like a log...

"G'night," she finally replied, climbing up and rolling into the bunk above him.

Antonio was rather surprised, having a bunk below the glorious Lovina, who had stuck her face in Antonio's curtained off bunk and whispered a good night that shook him out of his daze.

_Yeah, good night, hope you enjoy your peanut bed_, he thought regretfully, shoving the canister under the sheets and down to the foot of his bed. He didn't like peanuts, and for a damn good reason. Just cashews, and that mixed nut can had a _lot_ of peanuts.

Lovina slipped into the sheets and wriggled down to find salty little fuckers invading her personal space. She put a hand into the sheets, mealy and a little greasy, and pulled out a little handful of peanuts.

"What the hell?" She asked aloud, sitting up as best she could and opening her curtain to let more light in. To make space, she swung her legs over to in front of Antonio's bunk, flipping the cover up and groaning, swatting the nuts onto the floor.

What kind of cheap laugh was this? Who would cover someone's bed in fucking peanuts?

Antonio made a rather audible choking sound, but if he was ever going to get her to like him, he—

Had. To. Stay. Calm.

He rolled over onto his bed, face in the pillow and his coat hood stuck up. No, he wasn't going to laugh. No, no, no. He was _not_ going to laugh. Not even if there was a chance that she blamed him for the flying nuts.

Maybe now she'd have the _nuts_ to dump her boyfriend.

She scowled and pulled his curtain back with her foot, balancing precariously to nudge his shoulder with her toe. "What the fuck are you laughing at?" She demanded.

Oh, he wasn't laughing. His face had grown red from the lack of air in this pillow and the shakes in his chest. Antonio stilled himself, waiting for her next move. He slept like a bear he'd be fine.

She waited for a reply, able to hear the bunk creak slightly under his silent giggling fit. "Fine," she hissed, jumping out of the bed and drawing his curtain back on him, almost pulling it off the rail, she did so with such force. "Apparently my night wasn't fucking bad enough for you," she muttered, going in search of another free bunk.

_"Ay,"_ He moaned, sitting up in his and grabbing her by the back of her shirt. "Take mine, _take mine_," He yanked her back and got out, turning her shoulders the other way. "No peanuts in there, I promise."

Now what was he going to do about his peanut allergy, he didn't know. He'd sleep in the living area of the bus in the front. Perfect.

She shook her head and forced his hands off of her shoulders, staring at the wall behind him or his feet, just not his face. "Why are you trying to annoy me?" She asked, shrugging. "Why couldn't you just let me go to bed?"

"I didn't know you'd be making your nest up there. My bad," He shrugged, grabbing his bag from at the end of the bunk and tromping down the hall, drawing back the curtain. "Night, bird," He stressed, as in, 'I'm not saying it again'.

He had his good night early, she'd be damned if he was getting another one. After a second to glare at the curtain, Lovina climbed into the bunk and settled down. It was already warmed, and smelled good; too... she relaxed back easily, more easily than she would have thought.

Antonio settled his small duffle bag of clothes and snacks at the top of the sofa in the area where only the moon shined in from the sky above, painting the road and the spring scenery a shade of blue.

"Huh," He mumbled, settling himself to look at the sky until he fell asleep without as much as a toe to the shoulder or a cashew in the ear.

It was definitely not the best first night with the lead singer, but it would do.

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><p>(1) <em>Quando, Quando, Quando<em> - Michael Buble ft. Nelly Furtado.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Bird and The Bee**

**Chapter Three**

Lovina woke up bright and early the next morning, after she'd kicked a canister of nuts out of the bed. Having had an excellent sleep, she felt like getting up, in theory, but had to force herself out of bed in the end, swinging her feet onto the peanuts from the night before.

Ew.

She yawned and drew back the curtain to find Antonio half-curled, half-sprawled on the little sofa out front; using a cushion as a pillow, still fully clothed and seeming like he'd fall at the next sharp turn, as the coach rumbled on to France. Lovina sat across from him, remembering her fight with Gilbert and being told she deserved better. She wasn't taking relationship advice from a person who slept with a coat on...

He had literally. Gotten no sleep. At all. Antonio could run on a few hours, yes, but with all the rattling and shaking of the bus, which was far worse than not anything he had ever imagined to sleep with, he didn't even get a wink. He watched a French sunrise and that was it. What woke him up from his daze was Lovina, from the sound of her steps, ripping back a curtain and sitting across from him.

Shit. He'd have to sleep in the green room or get some coffee, because this was terrible.

"Morning," she greeted him almost pleasantly, stifling another yawn and watching the French countryside rumble past the window behind him. "Sleep well?"

He opened his eyes to her, feeling them strain and sting. "Did you?" He asked instead, avoiding the subject of his slumber entirely.

She hummed as she tucked her feet up beneath her in on the chair, shrugging contently and giving him a slightly pitying look at how croaky his voice was. "Yeah, I did."

Antonio closed his eyes again, nodding. "That's good..." He yawned, rolling back over, shoving his hood up to block out the sunrise.

She watched him with a twinge of guilt, picking at a nail and putting it to her mouth. "Bed's free if you want another hour."

"Maybe if you chuck peanuts at me I'll wake up—" He stopped himself. "Actually don't, I'm really allergic to them. If there are some almonds in there…"

"If you want to wake up," she shrugged, standing to go to a little fridge tucked in the corner and taking out two bottles of water, taking one over to him. "You don't want to sleep?" She asked, unscrewing her bottle.

"Too bumpy," He grumbled, taking the water bottle and pressing it to his forehead. "I'll sleep in the green room later after I help unpack..."

"You're not going out today?" She tutted, swatting his feet up so she could sit beside him. "We don't have to be at the venue until six and we'll get there in an hour or so."

"You'll be in your room doing your make-up for the remaining four hours and throwing phones at the doors, and up until that point I don't have anyone to talk to. And all I do is warm up my fingers in that time any way..." He rambled on, sighing when he had to scoot up further in his spot on the couch. She needed to pick a spot.

She looked at him, offended. "Stop complaining so much, it's weird. Lighten up," she instructed, taking a sip.

Antonio shed his coat, since it was getting very hot; the heater must've finally kicked on. "Sorry," He apologized, using it as a blanket instead.

"Where are you from, anyway?" She asked, curling her feet up on the sofa to make use of the new blanket situation, using what little could cover her toes.

That took him longer than it should have to register. "Spain," He answered blandly, keeping the water bottle pressed to his forehead. "Valencia, Spain."

She nodded and took a long sip, having nothing else to say to him. "Valencia oranges," she said, in an attempt to save the conversation.

He laughed a bit, nodding. "It _always_ smelled like oranges where I grew up." He recalled, nodding. "Yeah, and we'd have oranges with every meal, somehow."

"We smelled like tomatoes, where I'm from," she told him, glancing over. "I wanted to spend all my time in the field and our grandpa made us learn an instrument," she told him, with just a hint of bitterness to her tone.

Hm. "My mom made me sing when all I wanted to do was play the guitar," Antonio offered, finding the shaking and the bumping of the bus less of concern now that he had someone to talk to.

"You're a good singer," she told him, before she pulled a face and shrugged. "Well, you know, technically..."

He rolled his eyes behind his eyelids, smirking. "Thanks, bird."

She gave his foot a soft slap. "Quit calling me that."

"Why not? It suits you." He whined, nudging her with his toes.

"No, it doesn't... and you can't just give nicknames to random women," she scolded him, giving his toe a flick to keep him away.

"But you're not a random woman, you're a friend." He defended himself, flinching back into a ball once she had set off his mental alarm system.

She scoffed at him, closing her eyes and setting her head back. "Are you always so quick to make friends?"

He shook his head. "No, no, not really," Antonio mumbled. "You're just the first one to talk back."

Lovina sat up and watched him curl into the couch, unable to believe he wasn't the kind to leave a lasting impression on everyone he met. She shrugged, chewing the same nail from earlier. "You too,"

Antonio peeked an eye out to her, the other one squinted shut. "Oh," He blurted. "That's nice."

_Yes, Lovina, it's great you're so alone..._

She sniffed, immediately feeling embarrassed. "I have people I talk to, but... _you know_..."

"They can't offer you much conversation." He mumbled, closing his eyes again so she didn't feel so damned awkward all the time. Lovina had a habit of doing such things.

"How would you know?" She argued back, crossing her arms. "We get on fine, me and..." Her boyfriend and her brother. God, she was lame. "My friends,"

He didn't mean to be rude but he seriously doubted Lovina had a best friend aside from her domestic abusing boyfriend, as the tabloids might say. "Anything you say,"

"Shut up!" She spat defensively, getting flustered and putting her feet down so no part of her was at any risk of touching him.

_Shut up, just play the guitar, you're an idiot—_

"How close are we?" He asked, not even bothering with reading the signs. "Hot or cold?"

Lovina glared at him, even annoyed at how he could lay there with his eyes closed while she was irritated and flustered. "What do you mean, 'hot or cold'?"

"You know, like the little kid's game. Hot, hot, scalding, we're on fire?" Antonio asked, nudging her with his toes.

Good lord, did she even have childhood?

She wriggled away from his toe and looked forward indignantly, scowling. "We are not hot."

Damn, he might as well just start brewing a packet of instant coffee from his bag, with the way Lovina was talking to him. He sat up his back all sorts of aching, and unzipped his bag. "Oh, fine,"

"_'Oh, fine' _what?" She asked, looking over at him. "What did you want me to say? We work together."

"Might as well give up on sleeping until I can buy some cold medicine to knock me out," He shrugged, taking off his coat-blanket and tearing open the pathetic packet of coffee.

"Don't ignore me," She huffed, staring at him now, all straight-backed and glaring.

For a little songbird, she was very needy. He could understand why her and her slacker boyfriend got into so many fights.

"Calm your feathers down, bird; I'm still here, listening to you." He mumbled, setting the cold bus water on the coffee pot and waiting for it to heat up.

Lovina huffed again and tutted, settling back on the sofa and watching him, feeling embarrassed at being so childish. She paused for a moment and handed over her bottle, in case he needed more water. "Make me one too?"

"Sure, sure," He took her water and filled it up into the pot, almost to the brim, but hey, he could stay here for a while as he searched for an extra packet in his bag. "You can have this mocha one, I'm not to _keen_ on mochas..."

"You know there's coffee in the cupboard over the fridge?" She asked him, and he looked at his mocha with a bemused expression. Oh. "But mocha's fine." She cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around herself, starting to feel the chill from not being wrapped up in bed.

Antonio tossed her his coat, spotting that sign as clear as day. "I can't save you if you have dead time today, so make sure you've got a song in mind." He didn't know how to sing in French either. "A few, just in case,"

She hummed and didn't take it, only using the end to cover her freezing toes. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or not, so she went quiet while the water heated. "Thank you for that," she almost whispered, feeling she should have said so earlier.

He nodded back. A _little_ slow to the magic words, he was almost spoiling her. "Would you like some peanuts with your coffee? I hear that's a good breakfast other than..." Antonio opened the fridge. "Fruit cups and protein shakes."

She snorted, shaking her head at him. "No, I would not like any more peanuts, thank you very much..."

"Good source of..." He didn't even what peanuts were good for. Choking him and making him paralyzed for a good while, that was it. "Lethal abilities…"

"Why were you eating nuts if you're allergic to them?" She asked, taking the coat and pulling it over her lap.

"Just peanuts," He sighed, feeling the warmth from the burner finally kick on. "I get all still and I can't move, and I choke." He shrugged. "Depends on how many I eat."

"Is that why you threw them all into my bed?" She went on; raising an eyebrow at him and pulling her long hair back off her face.

He smiled, shaking his head, remembering how angry she had gotten. "Yes and no,"

She frowned, but it wasn't utterly convincing. "Yes or no?"

"Yes, because if they're around me for too long I start getting all..." Antonio pulled a face to show things got risky around peanuts. "And no, because I didn't know that was your bed. You always get up after me, and I always go to bed early."

The bus rumbled on, going through towns before they'd hit another small stretch of countryside. She sank further into the seat, tapping her fingers on her knees, pulled up to her chest beneath the coat. "You could just stop eating nuts," she suggested, looking over at Antonio.

"But y'see, tomatoes are my favorite snack, but they always spoil and they're not exactly palatable for road trips." He mumbled, tugging a mug from the cabinet underneath the sink and grabbing his own canister for himself. "Not the best gourmet coffee, but it's enough." Decaf mocha and wakening black Columbian. Nice.

She stretched forward and took the mug, settling back and getting comfortable and cozy. "I could ask for tomatoes in my dressing room," she said, putting her nose up, joking. She took a sip of the mocha and pulled a face, this time serious. _"And better coffee..."_

"And a new guitarist," He nearly spat, glaring at her. Was she ever thankful? He even made her coffee, saved her from dead time; let her talk his ear off when he was running on less than an hour of sleep…

She looked up and caught the end of his glare. Which was probably justified, but she was offended anyway. "It's not a reflection on how well you make coffee; it's just shitty coffee..."

_Oh, all right, she could have just said that—_

"I picked it up from some birthday baskets, since my birthday is close to Valentine's Day." He sipped his own shitty ass coffee, leaning back on the other side of the bus's couch.

"Wow," she breathed, blowing on the top of her coffee and bracing herself for another sip. "Your friends put a lot of thought into your gifts, huh?"

What friends? The closest one he had lived in this smelly country. "Yeah. Chocolate heart shaped cakes and love baskets. I'm feeling the affection right now." He joked, rolling his eyes.

"Your girlfriend must hate that," she chanced, although she seriously doubted the kind of man who ate food he was allergic to, slept fully clothed, and called other women 'divine' kept one for long. "You have your birthday close to Valentine's Day."

He almost cackled, that was so funny.

"Oh, you're hilarious, bird." He probably didn't look too charming. "How long do you keep your boyfriends? Months? Shame, you are a beautiful woman." He tsked at her, looking down to his crinkled clothes and the curls in front of him, larger and more matted and knotted than usual. "I'm calling the first shower."

She stood up and put her mug down on the ledge, the coat falling to the floor. She was too immediately hurt, or surprised, or offended, she wasn't sure to glare at him.

"Stop thinking you know anything about him. Or me." Her voice was slightly shaken at how flippant he was, how easily he could write off one of the only people she really knew at all. "None of this is _your_ problem."

"You're obviously not happy together. He shouldn't make you cry." He merely said, flicking off the burner and pouring the remaining water into his chalky black coffee. "But sure, it's not my problem, it's yours. No big deal,"

God, he was lucky her coffee was too hot to throw in his face.

"I can make my own decisions, don't try to influence me and then act like you're the perfect guy."

Well, she was obviously stuck on being blown off and forgotten for a cheap pint. "Fine. Fine." He nodded, settling back. "If you were my girlfriend I'd remind you every day that you're worth more than you think. But, _that's just me_."

She opened her mouth to argue again, but just stared at him, shaking her head slowly as he looked back, honest and kind. "You..." After a second to compose herself, she frowned and went to the curtain. "I'm showering first."

"Have fun." Of course, the idiot he was waited until he was getting caffeine from a rather shitty cup of coffee until she left to leave him alone for who knows how long. Well, the showers in France were forbidden to put up shower curtains, so he'd be out in the open. He prayed they had lockable doors, at least.

Lovina stopped by her bed to rifle through her bag to get her phone. None of the usual morning-after texts. Morning-after's meant after fights in her relationship, and not sex, although they had been known to share the same night. Sighing, she went to the suitcase tucked at the end of the bunks and took her towel and change of clothes, giving the curtain another glare before stepping into the bathroom. She would have let herself consider Antonio's words if she wasn't so sure she weren't in need of any counseling.

She was a grown woman.

A grown woman with a blinded sense of what love was all about. He hadn't seen anything so saddening in his life. Antonio took his final sips, feeling his eyes lighten a little and his voice regain a bit of its body. He'd die if he sung back up for her today, so he had to be sure she was fine... Antonio looked up once Lovina was out, now out of her green striped cotton pajamas and into her clothes for lazing about for five hours. He didn't stare too much, for she had used up all the hot water on the bus from the looks of her skin.

"Shower's free," she told him bluntly, catching his eye and going back to tinker with her phone, just to look busy.

He shook his head. He was never showering on the bus, ever. "I don't feel up to..." He looked up from his iPhone. "... um, being pelted with _ice_,"

"I was barely in there for ten minutes," she answered cuttingly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't be so picky."

"With the state I'm in," He scoffed, faking a cough at her. "Oh, I don't know, maybe I should just sleep in my bed all day."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Whatever gets you clean and ready for tonight, I don't care."

"Maybe the sound tech could fill in for me..." He whined, slipping his phone back into his duffle bag. "Or maybe you could just record me..."

"Do not start," she warned him. "You've been here a week, get your ass on stage on time and don't complain about it."

Antonio couldn't help but laugh as he rolled over, slopping himself over the couch while a few of the other members started filing in and out, one taking the time to sit on Antonio's back and lean back for a spell.

She huffed and hopped onto her bunk to sit for the rest of the journey away from him. He always found exactly the way to- no, _not ruffle her feathers_. Lovina wanted to slap herself for even thinking it.

Finally, once the man had gotten off his back— who he assumed to be the bass player with the wheat-blond hair and obnoxious attitude named Adam, they had settled and parked, and everyone was shuffling out from the back to grab a good four cases and carry them in like mules.

Lovina never helped, he noticed. She supervised.

Lovina stayed sat in her bunk while the rest of the band and crew went outside and round to the back, waiting until she was sure she was out of earshot of them to dial and press the phone to her ear, playing with the hem of her shirt nervously. She waited a minute or two, about to give up when the ring was cut short and someone answered— A female someone, she realized, feeling her heart stop in her chest.

Antonio rubbed his back and threw on his coat again, now already done with his first load since he was an overachiever of sorts when it came to lifting.

He hadn't seen Lovina at all, but by her tone, she wasn't going to be friendly with him today. Moreover, he was okay with that. Maybe it was her time of the month, as his mother would have said. He set down his guitar case next to a sofa in the back of the green room and kicked his feet up, glad to have a stable ground underneath him...

"Who is this?" She asked quietly, getting some apologetic German in return. Closing her eyes, Lovina shook her head and sat back against the pillow, trying to keep her tone steady and remember as best she could, she asked where Gilbert was, very brokenly.

She was slowly informed he was still asleep, and she gave a short gasp, her hand starting to shake.

_"Wer sind Sie?"_ She asked again, already humiliated at how little German she actually knew.

There was a confused pause at the other end of the call.

_"Ich bin seine Freundin. (1)"_

. 0 .

* * *

><p>1) - I'm his girlfriend.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

**The Bird and The Bee**

**Chapter Four**

He had just closed his eyes until he had started getting concerned.

At this point, Lovina would have locked herself away in her dressing room and be caught in the act throwing heavy objects at the doors.

Well, he looked back out the door, where techies were carrying in large wires and cables. Okay. The shower in her dressing room was free, and it looked like the only one, so he might as well take the opportunity and just go for it. Grabbing his bag, and leaving his guitar on his couch to be tuned at some point, he snaked into the dressing room and slid into the bathroom.

_There we go._

"Awesome, awesome," He whispered, turning on the water and stripping from his clothes.

There was a lockable door and hot water. Score one for Team Antonio.

Lovina did not trust herself to speak without whimpering, she felt like she was being crushed. This was why he constantly had to know where she was, what time she would be finished, why he had never wanted to run into her while they were together, this was why.

_"Ich auch (1),"_ she croaked to the German-speaking woman, who fell silent. She apparently had also been oblivious. "Well, not for much longer... look through the phone," she struggled on, reminding herself to speak in German as she began to shake. "_Schauen Sie sich seine_ ... texts... _(2)_" She guessed, hanging up and putting her head back against the wall.

Antonio hadn't felt actual hot water on his body like this since he had left home before the airplane ride.

It was amazing and refreshing, and somehow spiny little Antonio managed to be reduced to tears of joy. He could stay in here for hours if Lovina wasn't coming in. He'd just stay in here for the rest of his life, shampooing his hair and feeling the hot water on his back. It was great. He was in a state of bliss.

She took a deep, shaking breath, catching herself before she actually started crying. She had to start the day, and that bird-brained smart-ass would be on her back if she went past him looking upset.

Shoving the phone in her pocket, and grabbing her bag and coat from the front of the bus, she walked of and headed straight for her dressing room, stopping to talk to no one and keeping her head down until she could be alone.

Finally, he knew he had to get out, but he still had that tingling sense about him. So nice, and so fresh. He's slip into some clean_er_ clothes, maybe add just a little product to help his hair stop flipping out everywhere... He heard rushed footsteps in his hideaway, panicking by slamming the door to the bathroom shut. Shit. No towel, either.

Lovina stood still in the middle of the room, hands halfway up to her face to wipe the tears at the corners of her eyes. She had heard a door slam, so she sniffed and looked to the bathroom, walking over slowly and knocking.

"Someone there?" She asked, with her tone quite steady.

Antonio panicked so hard he thought the floor might cave in from how much pacing he was doing.

_"Um,"_ He blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth.

_Dumbass!_

"Yes and no?"

She closed her eyes and grimaced, shaking her head. "Get out, then," she told him, not threatening in the slightest.

"Well, I would, aha!" He called, leaning against the door. "But, I kind of forgot a towel, and I don't think you want to see my... nakedness with your status."

"For fuck's sake!" She groaned loudly, finding it slightly too difficult to deal with any more stress as she went across to what she assumed correctly was a little linen closet, and grabbing him a towel. "Here," she said, her voice wavering as she knocked the door again.

Antonio creaked open the door, holding out his hand and taking it before wrapping it around him. "What's the matter, Lovina?" He asked her, keeping it creaked. "What happened? And for god's sake, _please _don't throw something at me, _please_," Antonio whispered to her.

"Nothing," she spat, crossing her arms as she stood back to let him leave. "Get out..."

"Well, at least please have the mercy to let me get dressed," He laughed nervously, pulling on a pair of underwear and some jeans.

"No, just get _out!_ Why are _you_ in here anyway?" She shouted at him, going pink and trying to wipe her face quickly as she failed to stop herself crying anymore.

Antonio paused while he slipped on a little cologne from his duffle bag, setting it on the rim of the sink and stepping out. "Lovina, please," He whispered, seeing her make-up running down and her sobs shakily waiting in her chest. "Please, tell me what's wrong,"

No way in hell was he touching her quite yet.

She shook her head, putting her hand over her mouth when she let out a strangled sob. "He was fucking cheating..." she managed quietly, humiliated at being so emotional and proving Antonio right, wiping her eyes furiously to try and calm herself.

As much as he hated to admit it, Antonio knew it.

Did he? He sounded like a cheater. As if he cheated on woman and on board games that made people hate at each other.

"C'mhere," He said silently, opening his arms if she needed a bear hug. "I won't judge you, I promise,"

"Why would you judge me?" She yelled back, keeping away from him. "What the fuck did I do?"

"You're an emotional wreck, bird, you've obviously been hurt." He said in the calmest voice he could manage, locking the door from the inside with and outstretched hand. "You didn't do anything wrong,"

"And she was his 'girlfriend'," she went on bitterly, overcome with anger now, as well as grief. "It wasn't just that night; he had been hiding her... _I'm so fucking stupid_," she muttered pathetically, sitting down and putting her hands up to her face.

"Hey, hey, hey," He cooed, kneeling down in front of her, extending his hand for her to hold. "Don't blame yourself, you didn't even know. It's his fault, Lovina, and you deserve better, remember?"

She shook her head and looked at his fingers, her shoulders shaking, too.

"He _knew_ me, _really_ knew me, and he was the only one who could be fucked with putting up with me... we were as bad as each other, you know?"

God, how sad this all was. He dropped his hand and gripped the side of her chair, shaking his head in disagreement. "Unless you go around cheating on your boyfriends, Lovina, I'm afraid you're mistaken." He told her, reaching up and wiping under her eye. "You're such a divine woman, honestly. I would know from my share of girlfriends. Atrocious creatures, they were."

She looked up at him and sniffed, going to wipe her eye and finding his hand there, letting her fingers linger on his. "That bad?"

"Mhm, they made me swear not to tell, but then again, they aren't in France, are they?" Antonio motioned towards his leg. "Beat me like a piñata, if you know what I mean," He motioned to his ribs, his arms, even his spine. "Hospital knew me by name. Kept saying it was from a few misfortunate falls around the house, y'see,"

She watched him in silence, tears rolling freely down her face, as she did not attempt to stop them, lost for words or any comforting gestures. "I'm sorry," she tried quietly, keeping his hand with her own.

"Oh, don't be," He smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. "I guess I just have an eye for women that prefer to..." Antonio swallowed. "—dominate, shall we say? Which is why I kind of doubt myself right now?"

She didn't understand, and watched him, blinking, waiting for him to go on at his own pace.

Antonio bit his lip, looking into those reddened, hazel eyes of hers.

"Um..." He shook his head, standing back up. "Maybe I can ask you later, it's a bit too soon, you're still in pain." Giving her hand a final squeeze, he let her go and rushed to his bag. "I'll just leave you alone for awhile; let me get my things..."

"Antonio," she blurted, stopping him as he went for the door, wringing her hands nervously on her lap. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, locking eyes with him.

He was a bit confused, and it may have just been his fright with they power-consuming look in his previous girlfriend's eyes. "Um, why?" He asked, shoving on his shirt and his trousers. "I didn't do anything for you, let alone I just put another burden on you, I just made it worse,"

She shrugged, one corner of her lips curving up slightly as she wiped her face again, more composed. "Just... thank you. We can talk when you have a shirt on," she tried to joke.

_They could_ _talk more about… what? Did she want him to talk to her about how one had kicked him down the stairs and gave him a concussion? _

He sighed and nodded, tugging on his jacket once he was fully dressed.

"Sorry for hogging your shower," He mumbled, giving an awkward nod and heading back into the green room to try to clear his mind.

**. 0 .**

Lovina sat quietly near the window, her coat still around her shoulders as the last of the crew came on board from packing up the equipment. The night had gone well, and there was no need for a desperate and genius save from Antonio. Nevertheless, after the rush of a well-received performance, she was lonely and single because she wasn't good enough for a narcissistic drunk. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Antonio made his appearance, and she shook it. She could have had it much worse.

Antonio stepped on, gave the driver a friendly nudge and in return got a pat on the back as he closed the door to the driving section. "Ah," He mumbled, catching Lovina like the Grudge, sitting there in his perfect eye-sight. "Are you cold?" He asked casually, smiling a little awkwardly until he got his coat off and the rest of the crew left to their bunks to sleep for the remainder of the trip to Paris.

She shook her head and shrugged, kicking her shoes off so she could tuck her feet up beneath her. "I'm fine."

He sat down across from her, thinking over his speech in the dressing room for the umpteenth time that night. Was it too soon or was he just keeping her alone and lonely in the dark?

"Sorry," He mumbled, rubbing his face as if he was washing his face. He was such a wimp...

She looked up at him and frowned, more in concern than irritation. In only a few days, she had found Antonio's bad moods to be an indication that something was out of place. "For what?"

"For leaving you out of the entire thing," Antonio told her. "I was about to ask you to be my girlfriend. So I could convince you your kind of love is one of the best kinds and cheating bastards like that one guy don't deserve your presence, but here I am. I'm cursing myself for ever bringing anything up because I couldn't bear the emotion of being with you and not being able to love you like I do in secrecy and—"

He took a breath, hiding his face in his hands.

"You're just so perfect," Antonio whispered into his palms, shaking his head.

_Good lord, he was like a spineless high-school boy._

If she hadn't been silenced before, she certainly was now. She watched him, mouth open slightly, staring at the top of his messy brown curls and shaking her head slowly.

"Antonio... I..."

_Actually just pity you because you nearly broke a finger while playing a stupid guitar song. _

_Actually am gay. _

_Actually hate you. _

Antonio looked up from his hands, trying to seem as regular as possible. He couldn't see anything, or expect anything, but that shaking of the head was not a good sign.

She hesitated, filled with nervous guilt as he raised his eyes to her slowly.

"I was with Gilbert for a long time..." she started quietly, only able to think about him, his occasional sweet habits, and his hands around some stranger, and it made her wonder why she wasn't immediately sold on an honest man, but she couldn't bring herself to agree with him. "—and that doesn't mean I couldn't... but..."

"Which is _why _I nearly attacked you in your dressing room this morning, and I'm sorry." He stood up, shoving his curls back away from his face. He had to leave, if only he could. The bus was already moving out of the parking lot. "It's too soon for you; I should have known, I was just happy to see a woman who wasn't out to… to _break a piece of my anatomy_ to keep me from running away."

"Antonio, talk to me," she blurted, craning up to meet his eye. "It's okay..."

He sat back down, releasing an anxious and frustrated breath.

"Are you sure it is?"

Even if it wasn't, who was going to argue with her? She nodded, almost nervous at hearing his tone on edge.

"It's fine," she said firmly. "Really,"

He was on the verge of screaming out it as Lovina did in one of her numbers that always seemed to make his ear buds be knocked off and ring like bells.

"Okay," He said finally, sliding off his shoes. "Okay."

Awkwardly, she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. She wasn't quite sure what would set him off the wrong way, having never seen any side to him that wasn't decently levelheaded or extremely tired. "It was a good set," she muttered, immediately regretting it, sounding insensitive and embarrassed.

"Yeah," He nodded. "You didn't mess up, I'm proud of you for pulling through," Antonio offered, leaning into his hand. He hoped that at some point, they'd stop and he could vent his feelings to a can of beer, if Lovina even allowed such things.

Hm. She stopped herself from scolding him, finding that slightly too arrogant to ignore completely. "I have been doing this for a while..."

Duh. He mentally slapped himself, giving a little eye roll behind his eyes. "You're good at it,"

She felt like repeating herself. "Thank you," she answered stiffly. "You too."

Antonio was taking things too out of hand, now imagining himself in fancy little designer labels screaming into a microphone by the piano. He gave a small smile and a snort, nodding. "Thanks, Lovi,"

That one was a double-header. There, his smile was back, but it came with a new nickname, too. Was it too cruel to correct him? Probably.

"Lovina."

_Ouch. Definitely too cruel. _

"My family calls me Lovi," she rushed, to try to save some face.

_He'd have to stick to Bird. _

"It's a cute nickname," He offered, his face unfazed. She seemed to be a little at war with herself, and he couldn't blame her.

He didn't seem hurt in the slightest, so she shrugged and gave a little scoff. "It drives me insane... when I was a kid, I thought it sounded like a boy's name."

"It just sounds like a cute little name to me," He shrugged, imagining Lovina as a Lovin_o_. It seemed impossible, since she was so small-boned. Maybe if she cut her hair and narrowed those beautiful hazel eyes of hers, she'd look like a boy.

"I had a fight with my grandpa over my hair and cut it short," she admitted, laughing slightly, twirling a long lock at the memory. "—which was stupid. I looked more like a boy than my brother did."

Antonio was more offended at himself then Lovina might have been because he literally almost bursting out asking for pictures, unable to believe it. "Really? You don't even look like a boy, now,"

"I was six or seven... kids all look the same at that age…" she told him, taking her coat off and turning it round like a blanket, snuggling into the couch now that the conversation was flowing.

Six or seven with a boy cut, huh? "Did you get bullied a lot?" He asked, crossing his legs under him like he himself was a six year old, leaning forward.

"Didn't matter what my hair looked like," she shrugged, amused at how interested he seemed. "You bullied, you got picked on, or you stood up for yourself and got scraped knees."

He felt his eyes jump to her knees, as if she would be one with a potty mouth at six. "I remember I got a detention for cutting off a girl's braid with safety scissors when she called me a pig," He nodded, his face heating up. "She cried."

"Safety scissors?" She laughed, shaking her head at him. "That must have taken forever."

"It was around the first day... they were pretty sharp." Antonio nodded, rocking back on his tailbone. "She was kind of a ditz anyway, got knocked up in high school."

Lovina laughed more, although she knew she shouldn't have. "That's mean...! Maybe she just... _fell onto a dick_. It happens."

"_Oh_, I fall onto dicks _all_ the time!" He joked, rolling his eyes. "She put herself there, Lovina, I'm telling you."

"I believe you, I believe you..." She insisted, almost giggling. "On both parts,"

"Oh, really?" Antonio mocked, lying back on his side, supporting his head by leaning in on his elbow. "How about you? Ever fall on a dick?"

Lovina narrowed her eyes at him, sucking her teeth and looking away as she shook her head at him. _The nerve!_ "I'm not that clumsy," she answered.

"I was just joking!" He laughed, turning around to let it out into the other side of the couch.

Therefore, that meant she was probably a virgin, which was all fine and good.

"I mean, I wouldn't have known from a first glance."

Wow, and it was going so well…

"You think I look like the kind of person who has sex with anyone?" She asked coldly.

Antonio's smile had melted as fast as an icicle assaulted by a hairdryer. "No. No, no, no, no." He rushed, holding out a hand to calm her thinking. "No, I was saying from a first glance, you look like you've... never had any. But that's just from your songs and how little you care about it."

"Maybe that's private!" She spat back, sitting up straighter and growing more and more flustered by the second.

This Gilbert man must have been too fast for her needs. He was really starting to piss Antonio off, and he hadn't even met him aside from seeing him tug Lovina's shoulder outside. "Then it stays private." He nodded, giving a small smile. "Like the peanut incident."

"Sure," she answered quickly. "I mean, it's not like they had to change the sheets or clean up after you, no one knows about that..." She raised an eyebrow at him, frowning.

"No one does. They just think the drummer got out of hand and spilled his nuts." He shrugged, standing up to go hop into his bunk since Lovina was getting testier every single minute.

"Where are you going?" She muttered, glancing over.

"Bed," He replied, nearing the curtain. "I just seem to be upsetting you, so I was going to rest up and get my personality back."

Oh. She hadn't meant to get so snippy; he just had her thinking about everything again, which wasn't pleasant after having such an easy conversation. "Okay," she answered plainly.

"Don't be singing too many night songs, bird, you might lose your voice," He advised her, easily translating from birdbrain language to 'Don't stay up too late or you'll lose your will to do anything'. Antonio stripped from his pants and his shirt, hopping under the sheets for the first time. It smelled like Lovina, which was strange, although somewhat comforting.

She would get the hang of all his fucking bird jokes one day, if it was the end of her. She hung around in the front of the bus for a little while, giving him a chance to fall asleep while she pondered what had been said. Was she even really that hurt by Gilbert? Yes, but she wasn't very surprised. Antonio was honest, if slightly too quick too fall head over heels, and he had bared all, out of nowhere.

Poor Guitarist, she thought. She'd give him a few days to change his mind, making the decision not to encourage him.

If he had a crush on her, he couldn't possibly be serious.

**. 0 .**

Antonio's fingers were locking up, but he had taught himself an exercise from a few years back on how to get them loosened up and sometimes, even prick at their nerves to show them it was time to play again.

Cracking his joints didn't work, and perhaps he could even win over a few more crewmembers that started respecting him more and more each day.

_The Flight of the Bumblebee_ was one of the trickiest songs he had ever learned. In addition, Lovina wasn't locked up in her dressing room today, and that itself was a major advantage. He still hadn't wooed her.

Moreover, he was starting to wonder how he could.

For a change, Lovina was stood at the old piano in the corner, leaning a piece of paper on top and editing it here and there with a pencil, occasionally scowling and rubbing out her mistakes. The music didn't sound quite right as it stood. She glanced up, seeing the bassist and drummer sit on boxes and chat while Antonio worked with his guitar, a look of collected concentration on his face.

Nothing much had passed between them that morning.

She was pleased about that. Yes, she was. _Definitely._

Lovina went back to her work.

Mesmerized, Antonio watched her for a moment before positioning his pick. His fingers protested wildly, wanting nothing more than to just sleep and take the day off, but he'd get them woken up soon. If only Lovina could talk to his hands and make them wake up.

He started the fast-paced song, even trying to look away so it didn't seem like it was such a challenge.

She didn't even notice a change at first— Antonio was very talented. It made sense he could play fast-paced songs as well as slow ones well. However, the tempo increased at an insane rate, she recognized the song, looking round to watch his fingers flying over the strings.

There were fast songs, but this was something else... she could only watch in stunned silence as the piece continued, Antonio keeping up with the notes, seemingly almost effortlessly.

He looked up from the wall, actually losing his pick in the process. Shit, shit, shit.

He could see Lovina watching him out of the corner of his eye, so of course he had to keep smacking and strumming the side of strings, trying not to make such a big deal out of it. For it really wasn't _that_ big of an idea on the outside, how his expression had hardly changed and the bright red pick clattered to the floor.

She only broke her gaze on his hands to watch his pick ping out of his fingers and across the floor. She almost flinched, thinking of how humiliated she would be if she had launched into such a complicated piece and had to stop halfway.

He went on as determined as ever, keeping pace expertly. He almost seemed to do better without it, using his fingers to fly between the strings so quickly they almost blurred. There was silence except for his playing now, the rest of the band watching too.

Antonio, _master of the bumblebees_, had begun to smile, even though his hands were growing redder and redder and his little tune progressed, drawing to the end with a final strum of his strings, observing the small little cuts in his hands.

_Ooh. Nice. Battle scars. _

"Hey, Lovina, do you have any band-aids?" He asked, looking up to her piano station with the most oblivious look he could give. "I cut myself a little on the strings."

She tried not to smile at him. He was such a show-off.

Then again, if she could play guitar like that, she'd play constantly, to anyone who would listen, also, to people who weren't even willing.

"No, sorry..." she called over, chewing the quirk on her lips back. "You'll just have to play songs that don't make you bleed."

"Aw, c'mon— _oh_," He was giving a pat on the back and a first aid kit from a techie. "Thanks, Rich."

He set his mangled guitar on the ground, shuffling over to Lovina.

"But the ones that make people listen don't make my fingers bleed, let alone losing my pick half-way through." He explained, smirking at the pink, purple, and lilac, girlishly decorated band-aids.

"Is that right?" She asked, setting her music on the piano and sitting in front of it, but not playing. She turned slightly to Antonio instead.

"Yeah, like how the only songs that you can sing..." He trailed off, mostly for his own good and the other half for his concentration in wrapping a cupcake plastered bandages around his fingers where blood was forming.

She put her hands on the keys, pretending not to be extremely interested to hear what he had to say. "What about the only songs I can sing?"

"They're just really pretty, is all," He told her, showing off his pink and purplish covered fingers. "What do you think, bird, and am I the talk of the town, now?"

"I don't just do 'pretty'," she answered, both flattered and offended in one— she was very good at feeling like that. She had put her fingers down and started to play something more classical quietly and softly, but it was building now, to something faster and more intense (3).

Antonio dropped his fingers on her piano, watching her fingers fly about and rise to the higher keys. Damn, he wasn't alone in the experienced genre. "Jesus," He breathed, watching with extreme interest in her right hand, which seemed to move around with such grace.

She went on through the crescendo and then stopped mid-bar and looked over at him, something between a genuine smile and a triumphant smirk on her face. She held up a hand, turning it in front of his face. "See any blood?"

"Y-_Yeah_, well—!" He stammered, fixing a few too-tight band-aids and shuffling the floor below him.

She had him cornered.

"The keys aren't _metal._ If your fingers bleed on a piano, you're _stupid_." He huffed, getting his guitar and showing her. "These are _strings_, Lovina, _they'r_e made of metal and they _hurt_ when you rub on them for too long or too fast."

She snorted, pulling a face at him. "I was messing around; don't get in a state about it..."

Antonio blushed, having gotten physically defensive about it. "So was I,"

"Okay," she agreed, going back to her piano with her eyebrows rose high. "Just for the record, I do know the difference between a piano and a guitar."

"If it makes you feel better, I can't play jack squat on piano." He offered, slinking around and sitting by her on the bench.

"I can't play that either," she answered, resisting slightly nudging along so that he had the tiniest second of difficulty fitting onto the bench beside her. "Any requests?"

Antonio smirked, balling his hand into a fist and rocking it on the keys in a generic piano song that took no skill at all. "Not really, I just wanted to see what you were playing.

She hesitated, looking at her sheet music and back to him. "It's not cheery," she warned him.

"Oh? No cheery songs tonight?" Well, it was only predictable; she _ha_d gotten her heart torn out by a silver-haired beer junkie.

She gave a little half-smile to answer him, playing slowly. "It's not all this bad," she assured him.

"Oh," He watched her, seeing no guitar part and settling back down. "It looks nice," he offered.

"I was thinking the break?" She asked— there was a song every night when the rest of the band hurried off for a drink or a toilet break, and she played unaccompanied.

"Yeah! Yeah, that sounds nice." He nodded, knowing he'd stay around anyway to watch her. "I'm sure you'll be beautiful out there, you always are."

She remembered at the very last second that she was not encouraging him, looking back quickly to the keys and humming along. "...thank you," she replied at an instrumental, without much emotion, feeling it was the least she could do.

Antonio deflated a bit, although he had remembered her smile when she was done with her waltzing song, and tried to regain a little hope.

She was so cold, now, and she wondered if this was what it was like being her boyfriend, since she hadn't seen her act really loving to Gilbert's drunken ditching.

"Have you ever thought about getting one of those Finnish cell phones that's unbreakable?" He asked in the middle of her bridge.

She stopped playing; she was so thrown off by that question. "What?" She asked bluntly.

"Well, you're always throwing your phone around, and it's not good for it, see? There's a crack in the screen." He pointed to her phone resting on the ledge of the piano. "And apparently they Finnish cell phones are made out of like, diamond material or something and they can damage floors and doors instead."

Lovina blinked at him and started playing again, more to distract herself than to practice. "I don't think I'll be throwing it around much anymore."

"Just in case you hurl it at my face or something, you can do damage," He mumbled under his breath, sulking just a tad.

She didn't answer him immediately, going on with her song, frowning. "Why would I do that?" She finally sighed, like an aggravated mother. He was swinging from mood to mood very quickly.

"Leaving," He moaned, not wanting to upset her any further and rising from his spot. "Thanks for gracing me with your expertise, Lovina, I love you—_r_ piano skills."

She wasn't sure if he sounded pathetic or sarcastic; a part of her twanged to apologize, so she wasn't sure why she didn't.

"Sorry," she shrugged quietly, surprising herself. "See you later."

"Yeah, yeah,"

_Hope you croak on stage. _

"See you in the wings, bird~"

"Be careful with those fingers," she tried, looking up at him and giving an awkward little chuckle. "_'Bee'_ careful?"

Antonio had to stop and laugh a spell. So much for being mad at her.

_"The bird and the bee,"_ He called after her, sitting back down on his spot.

"Behave," she warned him, with a very unconvincing frown. "And don't make a bee joke out of that."

_"Beehive!"_ He cackled, rolling over onto his stomach. Somehow, everything was a lot funnier when he was lying down.

She stopped herself laughing and scowled at him. _"Just...!"_ She warned, waiting for him to finish for her. He had wiped a few tears from his eyes, looking at her.

"_Just_ what?" He asked after a bit, sitting back up.

Against her will, Lovina smiled, going back to her piano and shaking her head.

"Just play the guitar."

* * *

><p>Translation and Song Notes<p>

(1) - "Me too,"

(2) - "Go through his ... texts... "

(3) - Chopin - Waltz Op. 64 No. 2 (Rubinstein)


	5. Chapter 5

**The Bird and The Bee**

**Chapter Five**

With more free time then Antonio knew what to do with, and the promise of March 16th night in Berlin was always a good night.

It was Lovina's birthday tomorrow, and she still hadn't shown any signs of liking him more than friends had. The word 'cheating' and 'dating' was taboo to her, and it still was.

Nevertheless, he had come back from the local farm store with a small bag of seeds and oats and a small wrapped box. Let alone he gave this girl something valuable, she'd throw it at the wall.

However, this gift was something special. You couldn't break this one with one thought of doing so. It was too cute.

"Lovina, where are you? Lovina, come out, come out," He walked in front of her room. The show that night was a blast, too. Now, it was time to give her what he had thought was the perfect gift.

She rolled her eyes and set down her phone, still being sent comforting thoughts by her little brother, as if the situation wasn't tragic enough, she still wallowing in self-pity. Her days had turned into a routine of wake up, wallow, smile, sing, and wallow some more. Talking to Antonio was allowed somewhere in between. She pulled back the curtain and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "It's bedtime, now," she told him condescendingly.

"Sorry to mess up your routine of being a stick in the mud, but I got you something for your birthday!" Antonio was beaming so much the sun that hadn't shown its face that day in the foggy, cloudy atmosphere of Berlin was envious of his shine. "You'll never guess. But go ahead and try." He teased, leaning down from his tiptoes to unravel the small, delectable and portable birdhouse from the sack, carefully hiding as he tucked the bag of birdseed underneath it so she wouldn't see.

She sighed, seeming irritated. Because she was, truth be told, but it was sweet that he'd remembered. "I don't know," she told him, playing along. "Is it one of your Finnish phones?"

Oh, she wished. "No," He shook his head. "I bought you a house! Happy Birthday!" Antonio didn't show her the carefully tucked birdhouse until her face paled in color with a look of disbelief. "I'll show you in a sec, but what do you think?"

"...you got me a house?" She asked, just to clarify.

Yes, he was still smiling. Lovina stared at him, doubting his sanity. She knew he liked her, but this was bordering on maniacal, there was some psychological condition for people who did this sort of thing.

He was obsessed. She'd never get rid of him. Just when she was starting to warm to him, too— it was a shame all the nice ones were fucking insane.

"Antonio, I don't want a house!"

He laughed, setting the tiny, but fist sized birdhouse on her bunk.

"No, no, no, not a _real_ house, a house built for you! I got you some food to go along with it, too. A little perch for you to sing your songs, it'll be just like your home away from home!" He stepped back, watching her expression.

_He had her going there_.

"What'cha think? Do you like it, bird?"

Oh. She let out a shaky breath and gave him a quick glare before she had time to process what really had happened. She picked up the tiny bird house and turned it over in her hands, beginning to see the funny side, even if it was kind of stupid, and then, smiling as she realized the thought behind it. Lovina was not a woman who was often lost for a comeback, but she just laughed quietly and continued to admire it, not looking at Antonio again.

"I even made housewarming things, like bird seed for you to eat in the winter when it's cold." It was actually, just birdseed like trail-mix, with little sesame seeds and sunflower seeds, he even placed in some baked pumpkin seeds that were almost just like baked pumpkin crisps. "Hey, hey, I'm really poor, I wouldn't actually buy you a house," Antonio laughed, setting the bag of seeds on her bunk as well. "Don't get those all over your bed, either."

"I'll try," she promised, looking up at him and flicking her eyes over his face for a moment, trying to figure out what could compel him to do something so eccentrically kind. "You're strange," she told him honestly, still failing to hold back a smile.

"I've never gotten that before," He snorted, leaning back against the wall to talk to her. "Happy _Bird_-Day. Ha-ha..." He joked while scratching his temple. She was just so beautiful when she smiled...

She tutted at the pun, grimacing. "You have to stop with those."

Antonio blew it by trying to be cute. "Sorry," He chuckled, hiding his mouth. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you turning tomorrow?"

"Rude," she scolded him, setting the birdhouse down gently and picking up her trail-mix. "Twenty-three, if you _have_ to know."

"Oh! You're so young!" He laughed. "I just turned twenty-five a month ago, right before the trip."

"I'm not that much younger than you," she scowled, but there wasn't much ferocity left in her expression or her tone. She was about to offer Antonio some of the mix, but it would probably be wise to wean him off things like nuts and seeds.

Just in case.

"I'm just used to older women, I guess. It's a nice change." He nodded, watching her eat his gag gift with a pleasant expression. "Do you like it?" Antonio asked after awhile, doubting how good of an idea it really was.

She looked up at him through a mouthful and nodded while she chewed. "Mm-hmm..." she swallowed. "Yeah, it's... it's cute. The bird thing..." She sounded convincing enough, but it could have been better. Whenever Antonio mentioned a past relationship, she was struck with a desperate want to know more. However, it wasn't the kind of thing she could just ask about, not if she had any respect for him. Which she did.

When and if he felt the time was right, he'd tell her, even if that were a niggling pain.

Antonio nodded, smiling. At least she enjoyed it, which was nice, and she was eating the gag-gift as if it was candy.

"I can..." He chuckled a little more. "…give you what I put in there, if you want."

She immediately stopped eating, her hand pausing above the bag. "Did you put something _weird_ in here?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"No," He shook his head. "Just sunflower seeds, sesame seeds and pumpkin seeds, and some raisins," He shrugged, smiling at her doubting. "It was the last show, but I wouldn't poison you or anything, have faith!"

"It was good," she replied proudly, giving him a more professional smile. "People like you, you know. Someone recorded that duet in Milan and there's a shitty video of it on the internet..." She trailed off to take another little handful. "Which Gilbert wasn't pleased about, but fuck him."

_Yes, she was at that stage..._

Antonio moved to sit in the only other spare bed that no one wanted and look up to her. "Oh, people like me? I doubt it." He smiled, fixing the hem on his shirt. "Imagine if we did duets more often," He thought aloud, barely under a murmur. "That'd make things fun to watch."

"I'm serious," she insisted, almost talking over him. "People want to know who you are. You did kind of come out of nowhere."

_"And to stage right you see the wild Guitarist, who is not mentioned anywhere, but has the talent of wearing six cupcake band-aids on his fingers..."_ He joked, looking up to Lovina's serious expression. "But it's flattering."

"It'd only be flattering if you weren't worth a fuss," she answered, feeling his unease. She went a little pink after that, though, and shrugged and looked at her lap. "You know, if you couldn't really play or sing or anything."

Fussing about Antonio C., the Guitarist? He wasn't worth anything.

"If I learned some duets for the piano, we could..." He trailed off, shrugging and messing up his curls, a nervous wreck.

"Maybe we put something together when we start working on some new tracks?" She suggested. If she was completely honest, she felt a little sorry for him. And she did have a soft spot for him, whether or not it was as soft as Antonio's was for her, there was no denying it. It wasn't that he wasn't good enough to perform with, and she would be happy to have him around, but he seemed so nervous and anxious to please her.

Antonio nodded, taking his usual approach to Lovina when she started trying to smooth things out the friend-zone way by hopping into his own bunk and tossing a peanut over the curtain at her.

Nightly ritual, it was just a joke now. However, she had obtained a weapon, so he slid back the curtain as fast as possible.

"Good night then, birthday bird!" He chirped.

. 0 .

Antonio really didn't remember much of waking up, but he knew _something_ was going wrong from how much he heard someone wheezing and coughing and even gagging. He didn't know who it was, but his eyes just seemed locked shut, he couldn't move his feet... the air smelled of something salty...

He wasn't moving. He wasn't moving at all, no matter how clearly she spoke to him. No matter how many times she had shaken him or tried to rub his chest when he was coughing, he had fallen stiff and unresponsive save for the occasional twitch or mutter, carried by the crew to the sofa out front for easy access after Lovina had screamed the bus to a stop.

She was at his head, with tears in her eyes and her hands through his hair, trying to keep him awake while whoever held the first-aid certificate found his shots. He'd make a _fucking_ good job of sticking them in the bottom of his bag, and she trembled as time ticked by and Antonio seemed to lag slightly more.

That someone making all that noise really needed to shut up, in his opinion. Now he was hearing someone screaming in his ear, something about relaxing and staying calm. Antonio, being the kind man he was, took that advice and felt himself roll over.

Yeah, good night, guys. Just going to go back to sleep. Jesus.

"No, no, _no_, _no_..." she rushed, putting her hands up to his face and trying to move it towards her. "Antonio, _listen_ to me, _please_, stay awake for me... _hurry up_!" She shrieked across at the first-aider, who tapped the injection and sunk the needle into Antonio's arm. She went quiet, searching for any immediate reaction, stroking his clammy cheek carefully with her thumb.

Well, that jerk with the whooping cough had finally shut his fucking mouth, and now Antonio was able to feel a pair of hands on his face, a needle in his arm and a held silence.

He opened his eyes again, dozy but still able to, and there, in all their light and glory was everyone on the bus sitting on the couch and standing near, eyes on him, and Lovina overtop of him, holding his face and crying like she had just seen a spider of some sort. He cleared his throat, hoping the words came out all right.

_"What kind of party happened here?"_ Antonio croaked, in an attempt to lighten the air. "Ha."

Lovina let out a huge sigh of relief and mouthed a quick, desperate _'thank you,'_ under her breath, her eyes closed. When she opened them, she frowned at Antonio, her voice all shaken. "How many times did I tell you? To stop touching peanuts, I kept telling you!"

Antonio thanked the techie with a shake of his hand before turning to Lovina. "It just must have slid near my mouth, because I didn't eat it," He breathed out, reaching up to stroke away her tears. "Bird, quit crying,"

"Y-You couldn't _breathe_," she stammered, putting a hand on his arm. She had meant to use it as an argument as to why she was so upset, but it only panicked her again. "I didn't know what to _do_..."

Some of the bandies and techs were going back to their beds, offering a hand for Antonio, which he politely denied. "Hey, I'm alright now," Antonio sat up on the couch, hearing the bus start up again with a slight purr and return onto the road. "I'm fine, I promise."

A few of them half-turned to Lovina, considering her state, but she just gave a little grateful nod and insisted she was okay, too, now sniffling and wiping her face, backing off of Antonio to let him readjust.

God, he had given her quite the fright... "C'mon," He groaned to her, brushing away a bang or two of her hair to keep out of her face. "If you keep cryin' we're going to have to drain the bus."

"I'm _fine_," she repeated, letting Antonio wrap an arm around her shaking shoulders and curl her in towards him. "I was just scared, I'm fine."

"What's the worst thing that could happen? I'd die. No, no, you can't get rid of me _that_ fast, Lovina," He joked, stroking her shoulder and watching as they turned off the lights to the front room and the bus start down the highway. "Sorry for worryin' ya."

"I didn't know, you _might_ have died!" She tried to defend herself feebly. She put her head against his shoulder, quieting down with the rest of the bus.

He relaxed back, trying not to move too much so he didn't scare her away. He had just gotten a songbird to sit on his finger and sing to him, the last thing he wanted was her to fly away in a storm of emotions. "I might have, but I didn't," He told her. "I'm alive and I'm staying that way,"

Lovina nodded determinedly, finding heat as well as comfort against him now, and barely just melting into a comfortable position beside him when he moved. "Good. Make sure you do."

Antonio smiled, feeling sleepier as the drugs crawled around in his bloodstream. "I will, I promise... it was a fun tour."

She just nodded again, finding his arm to put a hand on, still panicking at the thought of losing him when she wasn't even sure how she felt, or if it meant something that she couldn't find her own breath when he had been desperately wheezing and coughing. He had clung to her hand when she'd reached him, for just a few seconds before he'd started to freeze up, but she had gone still first.

This is how it was supposed to be. There wasn't any yanking or pulling here, it was all kind touches and soft whispers. It almost felt foreign to him, having such a gentle, fragile woman in his grasp and there was no need to choke or strangle, or even run away. Antonio felt tears come to his own eyes, so glad for her soft fingertips, even if he couldn't have her.

She was perfect.

She turned her face from him, nervous, now, in case she upset him, but the thought of him dying that nervous man who didn't believe his own worth was too tragic. "Antonio," she started quietly, already warm-cheeked, massaging the fingers on his arm gently, to show she was trying to be comforting. "The people who hurt you never deserved to have you in the first place." She had started out strong, her voice softening in slight embarrassment and emotion as she went.

Antonio opened his eyes, breathing calmly down as he felt her head move to be on his shoulder as a pil low.

"I was kind of treated like a kick doll," He started, clearing his throat. "They had taken out their anger towards other people on me, and after it all they blamed why I was so rough to them on my own actions, wherein _I_ was only trying to get away from them hurting me," Antonio explained in a cracking tone, taking a deep breath. "They blamed it all on me and from that _I _began to believe that I really _was_ a monster..."

Lovina shook her head against him, and moved her hand down to his wrist, but said nothing, waiting for him to finish on his own.

"And by the time I had finally gotten myself together I told them that I wasn't going to try to love someone who didn't love me back in a physical way," He watched as her manicured hands slid down, making soft little sounds which played at his heart-strings. "Afterwards, they had a fit, broke my things and left without a word, and a few weeks later they would always text me asking if we could try it again and that she'd gotten help for it all, etcetera, etcetera."

The very idea of sweet, kind, honest Antonio being manipulated and hurt like that broke her heart. She couldn't understand why he could believe so firmly that she was a good person, and not see the strength he had to overcome that and still be a decent man.

"How did you get out?" She asked, turning her head up to look at him.

"I had to move, get a new job, and block their numbers... Once one girl, I forget her name, I think it was the first one, tried tracking me down again and actually found me at work,"

She paused and her expression softened, meeting his eye. "Is that why you came to Italy?" She asked, anxiously. It had never occurred to her before that he would have a particular reason to look for work abroad.

"Well, yes." He scratched his head with his free hand. "Actually… yeah; I still get text messages from them, sometimes. I try to avoid them." Antonio gave her a small adjustment, having the urge to lean down and kiss her on her scalp.

"Oh, my God..." she breathed, letting her hand slip into his and squeeze it comfortingly. "That's horrible..."

He closed his eyes at her touch, resisting the sting of tears in his eyes. "I've grown to get used to it,"

She felt breathless again, scared but sure. "You shouldn't have to," she whispered.

Antonio shook his head, smiling just enough to be classified as a twitch of the corners of his lips.

He wanted to tell her how he had almost never felt a gentle touch in his life that wasn't out to hurt him or gain anything from him. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her for being such a nice woman to him, and more importantly he wanted to tell her all about how he'd be so glad to forget about everything and move on with her, duets and collaborations with other bands, making new friends, never receiving a punch again...

Instead, Antonio merely gave her hand a gentle squeeze and closed his eyes again.

He was still too weak.

She felt him settle, unconvinced that he way swayed by what she'd said, since he hadn't been able to reply. "You believe me?" She muttered against him, rolling her thumb on the back of his hand.

"You'd know better than I would," He whispered back, wishing such moments could last forever. He paused before continuing, "You know, I've never been at this much peace before in my life," He said, leaning his head against the arm of the sofa.

"Me neither," she realized, surprising herself. She had wanted to be with Gilbert, but she had expected bad things from him. She was never surprised when he hurt her. Nevertheless, Lovina could not imagine Antonio being so insensitive as to upset her. She would never expect him to be selfish or thoughtless.

She looked up to his face again, realizing too that she really was unspeakably lucky to have his interest. Many women would kill to be in her place.

"And right now, I'm not even thinking about anything," He stroked her shoulder again, rubbing in with his thumbs. "I'm just at peace. It's strange, but I like it,"

She shook her head, disagreeing with him. "I'm thinking right now," she admitted softly.

Antonio stopped his strokes, but held his hand there. "About what?"

She hesitated, light-headed and sure now, definitely sure of what she wanted, but still so anxious that she couldn't be what he needed. She sat up slightly to look at him more directly. "You,"

Antonio's eyes opened faster than they ever had before in his life. He was so confused but he was so happy with her answer he hesitated a bit.

"No, _seriously_,"

She frowned in concentration at him, feeling flustered and timid, but she was damn well going to say it anyway.

"Seriously," she nodded. "You deserve someone who makes you feel safe, someone who can tell you how decent and kind and amazing you are..." Lovina breathed out again, slightly shaken. "And I don't know if that's me."

His heart did a rather embarrassing little flutter, and he was sure Lovina could feel it under her hand. "You don't know?" Antonio asked her, sitting up and leaning in, kissing her forehead and leaning back. "I don't know myself, if I was being clear for the past few weeks, but," He stroked the bangs out of her face again. "You are," And Antonio was sure to nod so he was clear as crystals. "You are, you are,"

She edged forward and locked her eyes with his, leaning into his fingers at her hairline.

"What if you're wrong?"

Antonio pursed his lips and shook his head. "So far, you haven't even left a mark on my skin, or my spirit. Lovina, I think I finally found someone who might want to love me back." She gave a nervous smile and put her hand on his.

"You'd be right," she told him, and leaning forward, careful and calm, she softly pressed their lips together.


End file.
